Chapter 3: Lowered SAN Value

The night deepened, and Jiang Hai City's neon lights dyed the sky a hazy violet.

In Liu Guodong's luxurious apartment, a crystal chandelier cast a warm glow. He had just stepped out of a temperature‑controlled massage bathtub, wrapped in a soft bathrobe, holding a glass of Lafite, and leaning on a leather sofa while making a call.

On the other end of the phone was Manager Li's assistant's obsequious voice.

"Director Liu, you truly are a living Hua Tuo, a miracle worker! Manager Li is in great spirits today; the doctor said all his heart metrics are superb!"

Liu Guodong swirled the red wine in his glass, a self‑satisfied smile curving his lips.

"Just a trivial matter. Manager Li's health is paramount; I must use the freshest heart. When it's removed, the person is still alive—hehehe..."

He paused, then, feigning casualness, asked, "By the way, the youngster's relatives..."

"Rest assured! We'll take care of it," the assistant said disdainfully, "Someone from a backwater village wouldn't understand. Just pay a sum, or if that fails, use some 'methods.' Besides, the kid donating his heart to Manager Li is a blessing he cultivated over eight lifetimes!"

"That's good."

The last trace of doubt vanished from Liu Guodong's mind.

He hung up, drained the glass of red wine in one gulp, the rich liquid sliding down his throat and bringing a wave of comforting warmth.

A moment later, the room fell silent again.

But... it was a little too quiet.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Suddenly, a faint, highly rhythmic sound abruptly pierced his ears.

The sound was light yet possessed a strange penetrating force, tapping his earlobe once, then again.

Liu Guodong furrowed his brow and tilted his ear to listen.

The sound continued, neither hurried nor slow.

"We'll have to have someone come over to get rid of the mice another day."

He muttered to himself, offering a plausible explanation.

For some reason, the sound made his skin prickle; it didn't feel like a mouse at all, more like something else pulsing.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city.

In Chu Che's apartment, the main lights were off, and only a tiny siphon lamp bubbled over a dim blue flame.

A rich coffee aroma permeated the air.

He wore comfortable loungewear, sitting contentedly at his desk, and in the air before him floated a teal screen visible only to him.

The screen displayed the first‑person view of the "Cavity Person" Zhou Xiaosheng inside Liu Guodong's home.

A semi‑transparent figure with a terrifying void in its chest hovered above Liu Guodong's head, its perspective wavering slightly.

In a corner of the screen, a constantly pulsing datum caught Chu Che's eye.

【Target: Liu Guodong】

【SAN value: 90/100】

"Creating weird noises? That's common in horror movies; indeed, the best appetizer."

"Seems the 'Cavity Person' has a knack for the weird... quite gifted, actually."

Chu Che lifted the freshly brewed coffee, gently blew on its steam, and his eyes behind the lenses gazed with the focus of an art connoisseur.

He saw that the "Cavity Person" Zhou Xiaosheng seemed to recall something and ceased producing the heartbeat sound.

In the apartment, the eerie sound abruptly stopped.

The worst is when the air suddenly goes silent.

Liu Guodong's tense nerves suddenly tightened at his throat.

There was sound a moment ago; why has it vanished now?

This unknown silence makes the scalp prickle more than continuous noise.

He felt a pressure in his chest, his heartbeat inexplicably quickening, thumping loudly.

【Target: Liu Guodong】

【SAN value: 85/100】

As a chief of cardiac surgery, Liu Guodong immediately diagnosed it as a physiological reaction to excessive stress.

"Scaring oneself."

Liu Guodong stood up, intending to pour himself a glass of water.

Just as he rose, the photo frame on the TV cabinet toppled over with a sudden "clack".

The crisp sound rang sharply in the silent living room.

Liu Guodong shivered in fright, nearly dropping the goblet in his hand.

He walked over and righted the frame.

In the photo, he and his deceased parents stood together, smiling brightly.

But now, looking at the picture, an inexplicable chill washed over him; his parents' smiles grew eerily strange, as if they were staring at him.

He dared not stay in the living room, hurried into the bathroom, hoping another shower would calm him.

Hot water streamed over his body, and the bathroom mirror quickly fogged with a white mist.

Liu Guodong swiped the mirror with his hand.

At the moment the fog cleared, his pupils snapped shut!

In the mirror, behind him, a vague, death‑pale silhouette stood!

His blood turned cold; he spun around violently!

Behind him, there was no one.

Only the swishing sound of water.

"Hallucination... it must be a hallucination..."

Liu Guodong gasped heavily, leaning against the cold tiled wall, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

He began to seriously doubt whether, because of recent excessive stress, he was developing a mental problem.

Late at night.

Liu Guodong jolted awake from a nightmare.

He dreamed that he was back in the operating room, lying on the operating table, but it was himself.

And Zhou Xiaosheng, the young man whose heart he had taken, lay beside him, his chest cavity empty.

Those eyes that would never close stared at him with a dead, unblinking gaze.

"Ah!"

Liu Guodong sat up drenched in sweat, cold sweat soaking his silk nightgown.

He felt a sharp itching sensation on his chest.

The feeling was strange, not like a mosquito bite, but more like being scratched by something's Nail.

He trembled as he lifted his nightgown.

By the moonlight filtering in through the window, he terrifiedly saw that on the skin of his chest, just above his heart, several fresh red scratches had inexplicably appeared!

The scratches were shallow, yet horrifying to behold!

"Ah... ahhh—"

In that moment, all reason and composure were cast far beyond the heavens.

He was terrified, scrambling down from the bed, snatching his phone and, incoherently, dialing the security office of his complex.

"Hello! Security? Someone, come quickly! There's a thief in my house! No! Someone's trying to kill me! Right here! Hurry!"

A few minutes later, two security guards arrived, carrying flashlights and nightsticks.

They turned the more than 100-square-meter apartment upside down, inside and out.

The doors and windows were intact, with no signs of forced entry.

The balcony's anti‑theft net was as solid as a fortress.

"Director Liu, could you... be mistaken?" the leading security guard, the Captain, had a somewhat weird expression.

"Impossible! I clearly..." Liu Guodong hurriedly tried to show them the wound on his chest.

He lifted his nightgown again.

His chest was smooth and clean; where could any scratches be?

The guards looked at each other, then stared at Director Liu with a gaze that seemed to think him insane, despite his usual superiority over them.

"Director Liu, if anything feels off, you should go to a hospital. Don't let your status as a doctor stop you from seeking help."

"We'll leave now; call us if you need anything."

The guards said politely yet distantly, turned, and left, their faces filled with an uncontainable weird smile.

This made Liu Guodong feel an unprecedented humiliation and embarrassment.

He, a social elite, was treated as a madman by two low‑level security guards!

After the guards left, a huge terror and sense of isolation engulfed him again.

He curled up alone on the living‑room sofa, lacking the courage to return to the bedroom, and could only turn on all the lights.

Could it be... that my mind really is the problem?

Clinging to the last sliver of hope, he tried to convince himself.

Just then.

"Snap!"

The lights of the whole house seemed to have been switched off at once, plunging everything into darkness.

The world fell into a pitch‑black darkness where one could not see a hand in front of one's face.

In the death‑like silence, that thudding "dong dong" sound, like a heartbeat, sounded again.

This time, it was incredibly clear.

Incredibly loud.

Dong... dong... dong...

The sound was no longer distant nor vague, as if...

Right next to his ear!

A cold, hoarse voice full of endless resentment clung to his ear and whispered softly.

"Where did my heart... go?"

"My chest..."

"So cold..."

"Ah—!"

Liu Guodong's mental defenses completely collapsed; he let out a scream that was not human, rushed back to the bedroom like a lunatic, wrapped himself tightly from head to toe with a blanket, curled into a ball, and shivered.

He trembled, fished out his phone, opened a video site, and played the Great Compassion Mantra at maximum volume.

"Namo, He luo da na, Duo luo ye ye..."

The solemn Sanskrit chant echoed in the dark room, yet the "dong dong" heartbeat pressed to his ear did not diminish at all; instead it blended eerily with the mantra, forming a chilling death symphony.

【Target: Liu Guodong】

【SAN: 50/100】

【SAN: 40/100】

【SAN: 30/100】